Steaks and Macaroni
by Tyloric
Summary: Slash - "I'm sorry, do you want to repeat that? I don't think I heard you right, because I could've sworn you just asked me out on a date."


He was finishing up his paperwork for the day when Steve walked into his office, looking pale.

"Jesus, Steve, are you okay? You look awful."

The nod he gets is just a bit too enthusiastic. "I'm fine. Great, even. Never felt better," Steve replied, clearly lying through his teeth.

"Babe, what the hell is wrong with you? You're acting crazier than usual, which is saying something." There is a long and awkward pause as Steve stares at him directly in the eyes, before seemingly coming to some sort of conclusion.

"Danny, I was wondering if you would want to go out with me?" He asked as if he was addressing a commanding officer, the question shocking Danny into silence.

Then he looked at Steve like the man was insane.

"I'm sorry, do you want to repeat that? I don't think I heard you right, because I could've sworn you just asked me out on a date."

"Yeah," Steve breathed out. "Cause, you know, it's Valentines day and. . ." He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

Danny scoffs. "What about Catherine?"

He looks away from Danny guiltily. "We decided to just be friends."

"'Just be friends?'" Danny echoed, finally coming back to his senses. "You were all over each other. Like, it was sickeningly sweet. Remember sweeping her off her feet to take her to dinner?"

"Danny. . ." Steve moaned pleadingly. "It just didn't work out, you know? It's. . .complicated."

Danny narrowed his eyes. "How long?"

"What?"

"How long ago did you two break up?"

"Is this really important?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Yes, Steven, it is important. If you're using me as some sort of rebound I can assure you that you and I are going to have a great deal more to discuss."

"I wouldn't do something like that," Steve muttered more to himself than to Danny. "A few weeks ago," he answered.

Danny frowned. "Why didn't you tell me, babe?"

Steve shrugged, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Like I said, it's complicated."

Several thoughts flew through Danny's head all at once. First, Steve was asking him out on a proper, honest to God, date. At least that's what he thought Steve was doing; nothing was ever for certain with the man. For all he knew, Steve's idea of a date and his idea of a date could be on completely opposite ends of the spectrum.

Then there was the fact that both he and Catherine had broken up, because they had seemed like such a perfect fit; anyone that was able keep up with Steve and still manage to look at him with such fondness like she had was a keeper in Danny's book. The two of them had seemed so happy. But then again, so had he and Rachel in the beginning and look how that turned out.

And what was probably the most concerning thought of all was that Danny _was actually considering it_. No seemed like the best thing to say, so why couldn't he? Maybe it was the look on Steve's face; Danny had never seen Steve look as if all he wanted to do was turn and run. Afterall, the man was a SEAL and the epitome of self confidence.

So, despite himself, Danny was. . .intrigued.

"You look like a teenager asking a girl to the prom," he noted, smirking.

"What?" Steve yelled, alarmed, before then noticing the look on Danny's face. "Ha. Funny."

"I thought so."

"Come on, Danno. You're killing me here."

Danny sighed. "I've never gone out with a guy," he admitted.

"Me neither," Steve replied with a smile.

It really was a terrible idea. They're partners, after all. Danny had seen it before, when cops at his precinct in Jersey had tried to make a relationship work. The lines between their personal and professional lives blur, the tension building up until it finally explodes. The last thing Danny wanted to do was jeopardize his friendship with Steve.

But what came is, "Okay."

Steve's eyebrows shot up, shock painting his features. "Really?"

"Well, unless you weren't serious-"

"No, no!" Steve quickly interrupted. "I just. . .I didn't think you would actually say yes."

For reasons he was unwilling to identify, the admission made Danny feel absurdly happy. "Well, I did."

"Yeah," Steve whispered as if that fact was just now sinking in. A big, goofy smile slowly spread across his lips, and Danny saw the precise moment that the irritatingly arrogant super SEAL regained control. "Yeah, you did. Okay, great! How about I grill us some steaks out on my lanai? We can eat and drink beer. Dinner under the stars." He paused, suddenly looking unsure. "Unless you'd rather go out somewhere?"

Unable to help his smile, Danny replied, "You had me at 'steak'. What about your mom?"

"She already has plans," Steve said through clenched teeth.

Danny's lips quirked up into a grin. "Oh, right. With the investigator. That you sent to tail her. How's that working out?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Shocking," he laughed. "What time should I show up?"

"Six thirty sound okay?"

"I'll be there."

The child like glee that seemed to sweep through Steve tugged on Danny's heart strings. The man squared his shoulders, lifted his chin and let loose a smile that could blind a guy if he were to look directly at it.

It was, dare he say it, cute.

"Great," Steve said, rubbing his palms together. "Alright, I'm gonna head out, then. See you soon, yeah?"

Danny sighed dramatically. "How many times do I need to say yes before it actually gets through that thick skull of yours?"

"One more time?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, Steven. I will be there to eat dinner and drink beer under the stars. Now go away, please," and he did.

Danny pretended not to notice the slight bounce in his step as he walked away.

The implications of 'dinner under the stars' didn't dawn on Danny until he was actually standing in front of Steve's front door. It was Valentine's day. This was a romantic evening, a romantic evening _with Steve_. He had known all of this on an intellectual level, sure, but now that he was actually there he couldn't help but wonder what the fuck he had gotten himself into.

After taking a deep breath to calm himself-he seriously felt like a teenager-Danny started to open the door but then decided against it and knocked.

When the door opened all the thoughts in Danny's head came to a grinding halt. Steve wore blue jeans that outlined his figure in a very distracting way, with a red button up shirt. He was cleanly shaven to boot, Danny catching a whiff of his aftershave; it smelled crisp, like an ocean breeze.

"Holy shit," he said without thinking.

Steve frowned. "What?"

"You. . .you look great, babe."

"Oh, thanks," Steve said, beaming. "You can't do Valentine's Day in cargo's, you know?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Steven J. McGarrett?"

"Har har," he replied before smiling fondly. "You look good too, Danno."

Danny actually felt underdressed in comparison. He was wearing what he normally wore, the only difference being that he'd changed shirts and traded his slacks for a pair of loose fitting-and slightly faded-blue jeans. Not to mention that he'd forgotten to shave.

"Well, I always look good," he said playfully.

Steves laughed. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

A long silence that wasn't entirely awkward stretched between them, both openly admiring the other.

Steve snapped out of it first, opening the door wider, "Sorry, come on in."

"Yeah, right," Danny said, shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts.

"Why'd you knock, anyway?" He asked, shutting the door behind him.

"I don't know, actually. Just seemed right?" He tried. Steve gave him a funny look, like he thought Danny had just said something hilarious.

"Beer?" He asked.

"God, yes."

Steve smirked. "Come on, I've got a cooler out on the lanai."

When they stepped out onto the lanai, Danny's heart skipped a beat. Instead of the patio furniture that was usually there was a small round table, with two wooden chairs on either side. A short, dark blue table cloth hung over the table, with plates, forks and steak knives set up in front of either chair. In the middle rested a single unlit candle.

Danny's immediate reaction was to say something along the lines of 'I'm not some stranger in need of wooing'. But therein lied the problem: he was, in fact, wooed. He'd had no idea that Steve was such a romantic.

"You're really pulling out all the stops," he said more to himself than to Steve.

Steve shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant. "It just seemed right," he replied, echoing Danny's earlier statement, reaching into a nearby cooler to pull out a couple of Lonboards.

"Where did you even get all of this stuff?" Danny asked curiously as Steve handed him his beer.

Steve froze for a moment, his beer halfway to his lips and took a drink before answering. "It was around."

"Around? Oh. _Oh._ You already had all of it already, didn't you?" Danny mock accused. "Not the first romantic date you've hosted, I gather? You sure know how to make a guy feel special, McGarrett."

"It's not like that," came his defensive reply. "For the record, none of it's actually mine, my dad bought in years ago, for mom and him.I may have used it myself once or twice, but it's been more than a dec-," his rant coming to a grinding halt when Danny rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

"Babe, relax. I'm kidding," Danny soothed.

"Right. Sorry. Just nerves, I guess," Steve admitted sheepishly, leaning into Danny's touch ever so slightly.

Danny moved his hand from Steve's shoulder to rub between his shoulder blades. "Just take it one step a time, babe. It's not like we're strangers, and this really is nice."

The thing is that Danny had never really been a fan of all that cliche romantic Valentine's day stuff. Candle light dinners, soft music, holding hands across the table, staring longingly into each others eyes. . .he's not a fan, simply on the principle that he doesn't believe in celebrating affection only one day a year. Rachel had always hated that he celebrated Valentine's with her more out of obligation than actual want.

But there, standing on Steve's lanai, with the sun setting out on the horizon, with Steve smiling at him the way he was, Danny could definitely see the appeal.

Steve straightened his back with renewed confidence, smile still firmly in place. "How do you like your steak?"

"Medium."

"Great," he said cheerily. He grabbed a chef's apron that was hanging off the edge of the grill and put it on. Danny took a swig of beer as Steve got to work, sitting down on one of the lawn chairs rather than at the table, thinking it would be awkward to sit there alone.

Steve apparently cooked with the same laser focus that he did with every other task he tried to accomplish. He constantly checked the heat of the flames, basted the meat with some sort of sauce, flipping them with almost surgical precision.

About fifteen minutes into the process, however, Steve cursed.

"What's the matter?"

"I forgot about sides," Steve said helplessly with big puppy dog eyes. Good lord, the man really was a nervous wreck, wasn't he?

"God forbid we not have side dishes." At Steve's crestfallen look Danny rolled his eyes. "What have you got in the house?"

"I have no idea," he replied after a moment's thought.

Danny shook his head. "I have to say, Steve. This side of you? Blowing my mind."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I will go and see if there isn't anything I can't whip together."

"But _I'm_ supposed to do the cooking," Steve complained.

"Cry me a river, McGarrett," Danny said over his shoulder as he walked away.

He started rooting around the cupboards in the kitchen and found a single box of macaroni that was perilously close to it's expiration date, MREs, and nothing else. Danny couldn't exactly decide how that made him felt, so he settled on depressed on the grounds that, seriously, McGarrett? There is eating healthy and then there is masochism. He was willing to bet that Steve hadn't even been the one to buy the macaroni.

Still, beggars can't be choosers, so he turned on the stove, grabbed a pot and filled it with water. When the water came to a boil he poured the noodles in and waited for them to cook, which had the unfortunate side effect of allowing his thoughts to wander.

Up until today he had never, not once, thought of Steve as anything other than a friend, a brother. He'd never even had any thoughts guys in general. But now that the idea was in his head, he found that he just couldn't shake it off, and if he was being honest with himself, it was an idea he kind of liked.

He wondered if he was going to have a 'gay freak out' later, and wouldn't that just be spectacular? But somehow he doubted it. Steve had the uncanny ability of making Danny consider ideas that three years ago he would have shrugged off in an instant. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

"Any luck?" He heard Steve call.

"Macaroni from a box," Danny called back.

"Seriously?"

"It's not my fault you have absolutely no taste in food. I mean, MREs in the pantry? You're not overseas anymore, super SEAL."

"I like MREs."

"That is one of the saddest things I have ever heard, on par with putting pineapple on pizza."

Danny heard Steve groan. "I can't believe that after three years you're still bringing that up."

Smirking, he turned off the stove and grabbed the pasta strainer that was hanging on the nearby wall. After he had strained the water he dumped the macaroni back into the pot and ripped open the packet of probably-not-cheese, poured it in, and stirred.

"Keep an open mind," he said at last and Danny swore he could actually hear Steve's scowl. When he was done he placed a lid on the pot and grabbed serving spoon and carried both outside. "How goes the grilling?"

Steve glared at the offending pot a second before replying, "Almost done." Danny laughed silently and sat the pot down on the normal patio table until they were ready to eat. He watched as the last edge of the sun sank over the horizon, the sky painted red, pink and gold. God, he was turning into such a sap.

"Alright," Steve announced, grabbing both plates from the table, placing a steak onto each. As he walked back over to the table Danny cleared his throat and nodded towards the pot with a smug grin. Pouting, Steve asked, "Do I have too?"

"Yes."

Sighing in defeat, he handed Danny both plates, who spooned a generous portion for them both. He gave Steve back his plate and they both sat at the table.

The sky was quickly darkening, the stars just starting to shine through.

"Hang on," Steve said, walking back over to the grill, returning with a box of matches. He struck one and lit the candle that was on the table.

"I never thought I would see this side of you," Danny commented.

"What side is that?" He asked, sitting down.

"The side that plans candlelight dinners."

"And is that . . . good?"

Danny smiled softly. "I haven't decided yet."

Steve hummed. "Let me know when you do?"

"Sure."

Apparently satisfied with that answer, Steve asks, "Want any steak sauce?"

"Nah, I'm a purist," he said proudly.

Steve started cutting his steak. "Of course you are."

With another smirk, Danny started cutting as well, and a comfortable silence settled between them. They kept glancing at each other, their eyes meeting every time, and every so often Steve would raise an eyebrow suggestively and Danny would roll his eyes and shake his head. It really did make him feel like a teenager, but this time he didn't mind as much. When he made Steve take a bite of the macaroni the man had made such a twisted and disgusted face that Danny almost passed out from laughing so hard.

They chatted about several things. Cases they were working on, what was Danny going to do when he had Grace next, small things like that. It had been a long time since he'd been that relaxed. Still, something kept nagging at him in the back of his head.

"Steve," he started, then hesitated which made Steve stop eating to give Danny his full attention.

"What's up?"

"It's just, I gotta ask. Why didn't things work out with Catherine?" And there was that look again, the one was guilty and sad, making Danny regret asking at all. Sighing, Steve set down his knife and fork, whipped his lips on his napkin, and looked up at the stars.

"I really did try to make it work," Steve eventually said. "I really did love her."

"So why did she end it?"

He looks at Danny then, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "She didn't. I did." At Danny's frown, he continued, "It took me awhile to work it out in my head. Catherine kept wanting to move things forward, you know? She'd started talking about the next step. She wanted to get married, and the more I thought about it the more I realized that that didn't feel right," and after a moments hesitation he added, "I kept thinking about you."

And that bombshell hit Danny so hard that he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Jesus, Steve," he managed to choke out.

Steve chuckled. "Right? Imagine how I felt."

"How long have you. . .?"

"A while now, I think. I just didn't notice, or didn't want to. It took Valentine's day for me to actually, you know, talk to you about it."

Danny took a deep breath to settle himself. "Listen, Steve."

"Oh, boy. That's a scary tone," Steve commented, only half-joking.

He couldn't help but grin, but kept going. "I don't like Valentine's day. I think it's a stupid tradition." Danny rushed to continue when he saw some of the color drain from Steve's face. "But my point is that this has been a really, really nice evening. Seriously, I'm not usually one for all of this lovey dovey crap, so the fact that I'm actually enjoying myself is. . .well, it's amazing."

"But?"

Time to come clean. "But until today, I've never thought of you as anything other than a friend. My best friend, my partner, my brother, but that's as far as it went. And you already know that neither of us has any experience with another guy."

"Yeah, I get it. This was a bad idea," Steve said as if he was accepting defeat.

"What? No, you idiot. Would you just listen? I'm saying that I don't want us to be some desperate Valentine's hook up. I don't want us to rush into anything because we have more to lose than just a relationship. If we're going to try and make this work, we need to do it right."

"You want to make this work?" Steve asked, voice full of affection.

Danny scrubbed his face with with his hands. "I swear, you are such a child."

"You _like_ me!" Steve exclaimed like it was the best thing he had ever heard.

"Yeah, okay. I like you," and the man had the audacity to cross his arms in triumph.

"So what should we do now?"

Danny shrugged. "A second date sounds like a good starting place, and you really need to stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want to jump me."

"But I _do_ want to jump you."

"Okay, you see, that is not proper first date conversation."

Steve rolled his eyes, "What happened to us not being strangers?"

"Don't you use my words against me, you neanderthal. That is not what I meant," Danny ranted, pointing his finger menacingly.

"Fine," Steve amended, but still waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I should go," Danny said suddenly.

"What? No, I'm sorry-"

"I need to go," Danny interrupted, "Because we still have work to do tomorrow, and if I stay I might actually let you jump me."

"Oh. Okay," His smile was back. "I'll walk you to the door," he said as Danny stood.

"Such a gentleman."

When Danny reached for the doorknob, Steve grabbed his other hand and spun him around to press their torsos together. "Steve-" He started, but then Steve was bending over and suddenly their lips were pressed together. The kiss was surprisingly gentle, like he was asking Danny's permission, so Danny opened his mouth and ran his tongue along Steve's lower lip. Moaning, Steve cupped Danny's cheeks in his hands and pressed against him with increased urgency. It killed him to do it, but Danny pushed against Steve's chest firmly and pulled away.

"Slowly, babe," Danny said breathlessly.

Steve was panting and his pupils were dilated. After a few seconds he moved forward to press one more kiss against Danny's lips, just a brief brush of their lips. "Good night, Danno."

"Night, Steve."

On the drive home, Danny thought that maybe, just maybe, this insane idea was actually worth all the risk.


End file.
